


My Savior, My Salvation

by rebellious_sheep



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/F, Fluff, tiny bit of smut, vampire!Helena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 09:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15555204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebellious_sheep/pseuds/rebellious_sheep
Summary: After the explosion of the Warehouse, HG somehow makes it back to Myka. Wounded and dying, Helena accepts her fate. But Myka is determined to save her, no matter the cost.





	My Savior, My Salvation

Myka is in shock. Pete drops her off at home and offers to stay with her but she declines. She needs to be alone. As much as the rest of them are hurting, she is hurting more. Guilt hits her as soon as she thinks that. HG is—was a part of their team and they all loved her, even Artie grudgingly came around. _But not as much as I do,_ a voice whispers in Myka’s head. 

Myka does not know how many hours pass but she has barely moved from her position. Sitting on the couch, Myka polishes off the rest of her drink and sets it down rather harshly. The glass clinks and wobbles as it makes contact with the table before it stills. 

The burn of whiskey warms her, if not only momentarily. Fatigue catches up to Myka, making her head drop forward into her hands. She feels as empty as the glass. Helena had sacrificed herself to save them all. Myka still can’t believe that she’s gone. No, she refuses to believe it. They’ve come such a long way together, from enemies to close friends and maybe they could’ve been something more. Scowling, Myka pushes these thoughts away, not wanting to dwell on the could’ve beens and what ifs. Being reminded of any future without Helena just _hurts_.

* * *

A thud appears behind her and Myka whips her head up, startled. A figure with dark hair is lying supine in her living room. Myka races towards the body and kneels in front of it.

“Helena!” Myka cries out. Relief mingled with disbelief floods through her. It can’t be. Myka quickly chases her doubts away. All that matters is that Helena is here—alive, but barely. 

Her dark hair is matted with dirt and dried blood. The rest of her body doesn’t fare any better. A single piece of wood protrudes from her stomach. Helena is still, almost too still, her eyes closed, until she coughs weakly, a sign that she is still conscious. Myka carefully cradles Helena’s head in her lap as she scans her body, looking for any other serious injuries. Her body is littered with burns from the explosion, her beautiful porcelain skin charred. Thankfully, her face has been spared save for a few cuts and bumps. Helena’s face is paler than usual and when Myka uses the back of her hand to check her temperature, she feels cool. 

“Myka…” Helena whispers, her eyes blinking open to meet Myka’s worried gaze. She was prepared to die today, still is. But right before the blast, she’d smelled apples. Somehow, the Warehouse had teleported her here. There are so many things she wants to tell Myka, most importantly—how she feels. 

“We need to get you to a hospital, right now.” Myka, the usually level headed one sounds panicky. She reaches for the phone in her pocket. 

“No… hospital,” Helena manages to say. Her hand grips Myka’s wrist firmly even though she is weak. 

“Helena…” Myka looks imploringly down at her. “We need to get that piece of wood out of your stomach.”

“No hospital,” Helena repeats. “Just pull it out.” 

When Myka looks like she is about to object, Helena cuts in before she can protest. “Trust me Myka,” she rasps, looking up intently at Myka. The hand gripping Myka’s wrist directs her toward the shard of wood.

Myka swallows. This course of action is absurd but Helena’s words and her assured tone give her pause. “I trust you, Helena,” Myka concedes.

With as much confidence as she can feel right now, Myka firmly grips the wood in her hand, with Helena’s cool hand over hers. Their eyes meet, and together, they pull upwards. Helena grits her teeth and lets out a cry of pain. Feeling helpless, Myka watches Helena’s face contort in agony, wanting to comfort her but unsure how. The deed is done and Myka drops the piece of wood beside her on the floor. 

Carefully, she maneuvers Helena’s head off her lap and onto the floor, getting close to re-examine her stomach. The wound is angry and red. But there seems to be no blood spurting out. A good sign, Myka hopes. 

Urges and dark thoughts war underneath Helena’s seemingly calm exterior. The last of the energy used to maintain her expression fades along with her willingness to hide her true self from Myka. 

“Don’t be afraid, please,” Helena whispers as her hand weakly clutches Myka’s, catching her attention. 

Helena’s incisors pop out and her irises turn a dark red. She looks every bit a starving dying vampire. However, Helena has had over a century of lessons in restraint and the last thing she’d want to do is hurt Myka. Instead, she braces herself for Myka’s reaction. 

Seeing Helena’s facial features transform, realization quickly hits her. Myka has questions, but now, all she cares is saving Helena—the woman she is in love with.

“You need blood. Take mine,” Myka says decisively. She is not willing to let Helena die, not if she can help it. 

“No,” Helena adamantly refuses. She will not take blood from Myka. Long ago, she had accepted that she would one day die. She’d look forward to seeing Christina again. Being with Myka in her last moments is all that Helena could ever ask for and more. It would take her perhaps a day to pass in this condition without sustenance, if she kept to the shadows, Helena muses. 

“I love you Helena.” The words slip out of Myka’s mouth easily. “But so help me god woman, if you don’t drink my blood right now!” She pauses and then crinkles her forehead, which Helena finds absolutely adorable. “Wow, I never thought I’d say that in my life.”

“I love you too Myka. So much, darling.” Helena had never thought she’d hear those words from Myka and if she could cry, she’d be shedding tears. “But I won’t hurt you,” she replies, her tone heavy with regret and finality. 

“You’re hurting me now! By not allowing me to save you,” Myka counters angrily, tears falling from her eyes. “Well I won’t just sit here and lose you again,” she declared.

Myka lets go of Helena’s hand to fish out a pocket knife from her pocket, flicking the pointed blade open. Instead of going for the wrist like Helena had thought she would, Myka sweeps her hair on one side and brings the knife up to her bare neck. With trembling fingers, she slices a clean cut. Then, she leans down, positioning her neck over Helena’s face and waits. 

A drop of blood falls … and lands on directly Helena’s lips, bringing a striking contrast to her pallor. Her self control unravels because even a older vampire cannot resist the mouthwatering scent of fresh blood when it’s quite literally right in front of your face, especially when one is wounded and starving. Her tongue peeks out and slowly licks the drop of blood, savoring the taste. She pounces. Sharp teeth imbed themselves into Myka’s throat. Helena’s hands wrap around Myka’s neck like a predator clutching its prey with its talons. She firmly grasps Myka’s head, holding her in place as the blood streams down her parched throat.

For a moment, she loses herself in the taste of Myka’s rich blood. This was why she stuck to blood bags nowadays, seldom indulging in feeding straight from the source. It was purely addictive and Helena wanted more. Rivulets of blood run down Helena’s chin as the animal—the monster kept deep inside but surely not forgotten rises to the forefront. Survival instinct takes over. Delighting in the whimper of pain from her prey, Helena decides she would much rather hear a whimper of pleasure instead. Her hands descend down Myka’s body, easily manipulating it until she is on top of her. Her knee slips between the other woman’s legs, pressing against the seam of Myka’s jeans. 

Myka never thought it would feel like this. Burning pain seeps into her and that’s all she can feel in the beginning. She grits her teeth and rides through it, knowing that she would do it all again to save Helena. But then pleasure suddenly overwhelms her when she is hoisted on top of Helena and a knee rubs against her core in a delicious way. The pain is still there but it only adds to the pleasurable feeling. She moans and wantonly rubs her center against Helena’s knee, searching for more friction that the other woman eagerly gives. The orgasm hits her without warning, her body twitches and trembles. In the distance, she hears Helena’s growl of approval. 

The wound on her stomach heals along with most of the burns on Helena’s body. With her strength immediately returning, Helena gradually comes back to her senses. **Myka.** She immediately stops, delicately detracting her fangs from Myka’s throat. She licks over the punctures, sealing them and earns a shiver from Myka, whose body is still adjusting from the sensory overload and blood loss.

* * *

“Sleep now, my love,” Helena tenderly murmurs. 

“You’ll stay?” Myka softly replies, her eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to keep her eyes open. She is determined not to succumb to sleep until she receives an answer from Helena. 

“Of course, darling. I’ll be here when you wake.” Helena brushes a mahogany curl from Myka’s face and presses a kiss on her forehead. 

Satisfied with her response, Myka snuggles her head into Helena’s chest and closes her eyes. 

“You are my savior,” Helena says softly. 

Myka’s eyes flutter open for a second. “And you’re my salvation,” Myka breathes out with just as much emotion before exhaustion drags her under. 

They make a startling picture. Helena has dried blood on her chin and Myka has some on her neck as well. The couch can’t be comfortable enough for the both of them but neither decide to move. 

Myka—because she is in Helena’s arms and she couldn’t find the energy to get up even if she wanted to. 

Helena—because Myka is in her arms and she doesn’t want to disturb the depleted woman who desperately needs rest and recovery from that much blood loss. 

Helena spends the rest of the night staring at Myka with tenderness and bewilderment, as if she can’t quite figure out how such an amazing woman exists. And why she has chosen to love her, the epitome of a dark, broody vampire...

Tomorrow, Myka will reassure Helena’s guilt with her unwavering love and conviction. And in turn, Helena will assuage Myka’s insecurities with fierce devotion. Neither of them are any more certain about the future but all that matters now is the present. Second chances are a rarity and they are going to spend the rest of their lives making up for lost time.


End file.
